The Times
by Discipulus
Summary: Original characters set a few years before Knights of the Old Republic.  In a conflicted galaxy, it's not just the Jedi and Sith who vie for control.  Each side represented, their desires conflict in an epic struggle for what is right.
1. Beginning with The Find

**Author's Note** -- Set six to seven thousand years before the battle of Yavin, before Knights of the Old Republic even, sits our story with a unique cast where every character has a play time of more than six months in the story-based environment of Star Wars: Ways of the Force, (More info about that on my profile). Some even have a life of over fives years, (yikes) which makes them incredibly deep and quite easy to write for.

If you review this story I thank you ahead of time. However, I hope you simply enjoy reading this work of fiction!

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**The Times**

After the Sith and Jedi clashed on the frozen surface of Arkania, the galaxy has been at piece, mostly. The Jedi still train and the Sith continue their selfish efforts towards their 'freedom' of power. Smugglers still run illegal payloads through space and the many criminal organizations still operate on remote moons.

Taking from the prize of information, the Bounty Hunter's Guild is paid to find a certain place on a certain planet and report their findings to a private dealer, Nel Huri.

The Falleen's voice registered in unstable cracks over their ships coms. It was clear, Jansur Moon was the place. X'en was never really interested in books or artifacts, but the bounty on this particular find was outrageous. The dealer paid for their fuel and supplies, offering the reward as well. The golden Twi'lek's teeth showed as he walked with the olden style map that crumbled in his hands.

"No reason to upset yourself pollo…" His black eyed, green skinned of a Rodian friend answered him from behind. X'en was nearly six feet tall leaving his partner Teesan at an early five.

"The credits are worth it, but I wonder if the Guildmaster will give us a fair cut of this headache." The Rodian shrugged, the bounty office was fair most of the time when they didn't make up expenses to tear from your bill.

X'en licked his teeth, disgustingly, as they began their trek into the jungle. It wasn't that hot, especially when compared to the Rodian jungles and casinos, and even seemed to be further chilled the deeper they walked.

"What do you suppose that is pollo?" Teesan asked as his wide, expressionless eyes reflected the large entrance in the dimming light.

Flicking his tongue, X'en stuffed the yellowed map in his hard leather flight jacket. "That's our baby." He said with a wide, and sharp, smile. The slanting green light was becoming simply a mere memory as they walked into the artifact's home. It was cold and dark but as Teesan clicked a switch on his blaster, a wide filling orange glow pervaded down the hallway. X'en's wrapping head tentacles, lekku they were called, twitched as his sharp eyes widened. The walls were covered in markings he'd never seen before. Statues lined the hall as far as the eye could see, ending with a speck of blue. Teesan blinked,

"You see that too? I think it's getting brighter pollo." The Rodian squeaked in protest wiping away the drop of slime that fell from the ceiling. His steps were light as he walked in his full, yellow, flight suit. Tapping his tooth with a clawed finger X'en followed before something suddenly came to mind.

"Why do you suppose, as easy as it was to get here, that it's worth so much to deep pockets?" A minor nickname for clients with bountiful bank accounts.

"Deep pockets…" Teesan started with a shrug, as he held his blaster at chest level, "Maybe he's just generous pollo?" Maybe. But that wouldn't explain what a rich dealer wanted with something old and decrepit, other than to hang on his wall perhaps. Teesan was wrong though, the rich were such because they were either greedy, or killed someone. As they walked, the blue light steadily became more luminescent and he could make out small bits of photon bits floating freely, similar to the zapflies back home. It still several meters away though, his attention turned towards the markings. He once had a good contact, a scholar, that pursued all languages and one of the few non-Twi'leks to understand what his lekku meant when they sometimes twitched and moved.

It was seemingly familiar, a character that he'd seen many times before; always in these dank, dripping tombs.

"Pollo!" Teesan exclaimed sliding the top of the stone box away to reveal the altar sitting prize within.

A lightsaber.

"A lightsaber pollo?" he questioned turning to face a terribly frightened X'en. His own, Rodian, face twisted in confusion.

"There's traps, always traps Teesan. Please just… set that down." But it was too late, the statues behind Teesan animated and there was no time for screams, just the gurgle from Teesan. They came hard and fast but weren't solid, the spiked Massassi weren't right. Instead of hands they had several black tentacles that cut Teesan to pieces with a single swipe.

X'en fell over himself, stumbling and choking on his own pained breaths as he watched Teesan fall in a puddle of unrecognizable matter. The creatures screamed after the running X'en before they began their pursuit.

The Twi'lek wasn't the best shot, the best slicer or even the best pilot for that matter. But the vision of his good friend falling apart and the horrific look on the marred creatures faces made him the champion runner of all time in the neutral system. They continued after him though and he didn't know what they looked like in the light that was nearly gone. He could hear the heavy thuds of their clawed feet glistening with blood. Another scream; like the deep sound of a ship's hull dragging against the edge of a docking bay. Save it was deeper, more carnal.

And they were getting closer.

Even their tentacles made a horrible sound, whipping and snapping against themselves. Easily filling their victims with terror and their master with delight.

Then another sound, that of the churning whips reeling back.

Purple. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Then he realized what it was and his joy grew ten-fold. It was Shiv, standing right behind a spinning power cannon as it's end began to heat up. Diving, he rolled up the docking ramp and into the cockpit to slide against the opposite wall, back resting against it. A perfect sight to watch the black Massassis charge through the bush.

It was loud, deafening even, but as the near constant stream of ship shaking laser bolts exploded from the end of Shiv's weapon, it was nothing but music. The creatures screamed as they began to turn red and then each exploded together.

Then there was silence. For even though the cannon's spinning emitted a noise none could hear it. Shiv's boots clanked against the docking ramp as she landed from the stationary turret. Then a hand came over her mouth as she saw X'en lying in a pool of blood.

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**The Find**

"So that's it? Ah black Massasi? Ah'm tellin' yah miss they don't make 'em like that." Back at the Bounty Hunter's Guild, Shiv waited for the Guildmaster as she bickered with a drunk and condescending Kaid.

"That's what I saw…" her tone had risen beyond simply yelling at this point, "Black with spikes all over. And blades and covered in blood!"

When Rad left his office he only saw the six and a half foot brick wall Kaid slumped on the floor, held up only by his beaten duster's collar. Held by the hands of a slender, but solid woman. Kaid could take it but even if Rad didn't know that, he'd have let her beat him regardless.

He waved a clawed hand for her to come in and walked the some thirty feet to his expensive wooden desk.

"Now…" The Falleen started, removing his two blasters to set them on his desk, "I've heard a few different things up until now. But what did you actually find?" He asked with his solid green eyes watching the purple haired mercenary before crossing his large arms.

Yon sat meditating quietly, it'd only been a few days since his arrival at Coruscant, but he'd acclimated quickly to the greater amount of life that flowed through the force here, and the distant noise of ships landing and taking off. Everything was quiet with him though, his mind was silenced and listened only to the force.

And he saw the statues come to life, tear a man apart and rage through the jungles of a certain planet before their demise. It wasn't quite that simple however, there was something else in that Sith tomb. Something more than the items, but their owners didn't belong their either. Jumping violently from one part vision to one part force Yon felt his stomach sink and his feline eyes snapped open with only shock on their canvas of emotions. He had to find his Master, _a _Master to help him interpret these visions. He'd never trained in the force to do such a thing and its sudden arrival was startling.

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**The Jedi**

Ian smiled brightly as the female Twi'lek walked past, a pink little miss.

"Hey there darlin', stay around here for awhile. Once we're done here ah wouldn't mind yer company." To him his smile was genuine, to her it was dopey. Rolling her eyes with a sigh she, walked into the nearby bar. Kyle had told Maxwell countless times that his actions didn't meet Jedi requirements, that he needed to serve others more boldly than he did and act with more self consciousness. His words had fallen on ears that would not hear them. He watched Ian Maxwell blow kisses to another youthful Twi'lek, this time blue. Ian didn't even wear his Order's outfit most of the time, instead picking out a leather flight jacket and dark pants. Never the less he was a Knight and a powerful Battlemaster like himself. They were a team, two of the most potential Jedi Master's seen in the last hundred years across several planets.

They weren't here to debate their greatness, Ian's habits or Kyle's own morals as he sat on a nearby bench outside the Darkside bar on Coruscant, full clad in his robes. This was a mission for the Order; a disgruntled mercenary was walking around with a set of battle ready droids and a lightsaber threatening people. They'd heard about this through rumors on Taboon, a rogue Mandalorian is what they'd heard through The Order.

Ian's sources however, shady as usual, gave them a great more deal of information. That he was going to show up outside of this particular bar in Coruscant's underworld for a bounty. The worried Human was much happier when he knew that two Jedi would be protecting him. And so here they were, chatting with multi-colored Twi'leks and waiting for six hours. Kyle still sat in his chosen spot, head down, feeling through the force for their quarry while Ian did the same thing…just in a different way. Pacing about with the occasional smiles to any lady that would enter the bar and again when they left.

Then Kyle lifted his head opening his eyes. Ian had already turned his head in the direction that his once master was looking.

Four droids rounded the corner, each with a blaster on each arm and marred metallic finishes; blade and blunt damage marks all over their forms. Then following them was, just as they'd been told, a large figure in full Mandalorian armor that glinted and shone even below the surface of Coruscant. But more importantly was his weapon; a heavy arms Mandalorian issue blaster repeater, much larger than anything even a credit-filled bank room could buy.

"People are going to be hurt." Kyle said as he stood to his feet. Ian nodded. They'd have to end this quickly. Then they heard a male's altered voice echo through metal,

"A Jedi? You must be here to stop me. I'm _going_ to get Danik.." He said and immediately eight blasters came to bear and the heavy repeater started to whirl.

"An' here ah thought he'd have a lightsaber." Ian said with a large, mocking grin.

There were so many shots, as it began to rain, that fire started to light the darkened walls of the underworld. Kyle stood and drew his saber, his mind beginning to flow through the force only; in the hail of red only a few bolts had him actually moving his saber to block them. Ian didn't even draw his two sabers as he ran through the maelstrom of fire. Deftly he stepped aside the blasts, they pushed so much against him in the force that to get burned by them seemed impossible. After ducking and shifting his feet to slide here and there, left and right, he came to a skidding stop just in front of the Mandalore.

"'Scuse me mut." He then winked, tipping the hat that wasn't present on his head. Flinching inside his helmet and gritting his teeth, the Mandalore wheeled the weighty blaster towards the too-close target. Inside his helmet his eyes followed Ian's leaping form some thirty feet into the air before movement at ground level caught his eyes. All of his droids followed Ian! The same distance before they began their smashing decent towards the highly scorched Underworld floor. He only had a moment to worry about his lost droids as light reflected off of his armor; a bright one that severed his weapon to a worthless piece of metal before slamming against his chest, knocking him back and down. The Mandalore hadn't even seen Kyle move, let alone close the distance between them enough to strike him. He came to a sliding, noisy and armor scraping halt against the ground, as did his droids… practically disintegrating as they and Ian landed at the same time. Kyle brought his saber up to deflect a handful of rogue parts as the Mandalore began to scramble to his feet. Ian, having landed just next to him, with hands in his pockets, took his boot and knocked the helmet free, watching it slide several feet.

"Kor?" Ian's face twisted into one of subdued laughter, but even his Jedi training couldn't hold back the girlish giggle that escaped his mouth. Kyle, again noting the lax of Jedi traits that Ian showed frequently, slipped his cold saber back into his belt loop.

"We were fighting such a minor threat?" Kyle said, even admitting himself that this particular man could be intimidating to cooks and waitresses in the neutral sector, but never really held his own against real challengers. Ian knew Kor from his high amount of knowledge in neutral space, Kyle knew of him because he'd kidnapped two Republic officers.

Honor was important to Mandalorians, more so than nearly any other race of peoples; so as Kor picked up the shattered pieces of his pride he drew his small hold-out blaster to fire on Kyle but it was far too late. With one blast of force the weapon was ripped from his hand to skid harmlessly away before both Master and his once student sent a wall of force to crush Kor. The result was a crumpled Mandalore on the floor of the Underworld outside of the "Darkside" Bar.

"Lightsaber?" Kyle asked as Ian shook his head.

"Don' look like it. What do ya suppose got ta him 'fore us?" Ian asked holding a hand on his chin and mouth, half introspectively and half to stifle the smile that was growing. Kor's armor was beaten, as if by a blunt weapon, and there were blade marks all over the once shined blue suit.

"And if he were to be carrying one around, where did he get it? Neutral worlds don't have that kind of technology." Then Kyle took a hand to his chin for a moment, "He's probably just had that armor for awhile, it's been a couple years since the wars." He mused before turning away and speaking with the police force that had been nearby, for the pickup. Meanwhile Ian turned a bit more serious, someone was playing a trick; but who and why? He couldn't see the motive for sending a failed Mandalorian about the galaxy on a power trip with a weapon he couldn't use. If he had the time; a trip to beat the answers out of his favorite Sith would be in order. Ian threw his floor length braid over his back before his violet eyes looked up to Kyle; he felt something strange coming from his old Master.

"The Order needs us back at the Praxeum soon. Something's happened while we were away." Ian's brow tightened as he tried to interpret what Kyle was meaning. The soldiers arrived, each of the four giving separate salutes, and began the extraction of Kor to his cell. Ian nodded,

"Let's get back ta' the Praxeum an' see then."

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Thank you for reading! But why stop? Chapter two is one click away.


	2. Long Reach of the Disciple

Zakse stood looking over the commander, the red skies above her flaring with sharp fire. Her sabers were a hot blue and green, just like her eyes, as she watched the Devorian make a desperate move, to reach for his blaster. Both cuts came at the same time but from the same hand, one at his wrist and one at his throat. It was a flawless move, and as the cruiser began to sink to rest of the way into Jansur the battle was over. More had happened here today than all of the skirmishes prior.

She blinked coming out of her meditation to see Dumas Kren standing before her; noticeably shorter than her with a blue cloth over his eyes and a matching three layer robe with the standard white tunic to compliment. Only his golden face could be seen for the rest of him was sealed in clothes, dark gloves and pants. Both his hands interlocked in his sleeves,

"Hello Zakse." a small bow of respect to the Battlemaster as he moved to sit next to her. Dumas was quite humorless and a much more frail Jedi than herself; A Jedi Scholar who's gifts didn't lend towards combat and the building of muscles. His specialty was the mind. He turned his head, only seeing her through the force as he did everything else. Zakse's aura was different than any other Jedi's he'd ever seen; typically a person's aura was a green and yellow and a Sith's were hues of orange and reds but Zakse's was a clear blue edging towards white. As he mentioned this the Battlemaster nodded quietly.

"After speaking with the Council about this they've sent me here to check on you. Most Jedi, especially after wars they've participated in as much as you, wonder about the…" he paused looking forward and towards her, as if to give her a sidelong glance, "_choices_, that you may or may not have made on the battlefield." Zakse knew what he was talking about, the Jedi's code, their honor and the way of peace over war, positive over negatives.

"This had led you and the council to what then?"

"Nothing bad I assure you Zakse, they merely instructed that I check on your health. How have you been dealing with your battles since Jansur?" he asked, his gloved hands making a small crinkling sound under his robes.

"It's weight on my shoulders, but nothing I can't handle and nothing I wouldn't be able to handle again." She could tell by the look on Dumas' face and the beginning of his tone that he was going to begin speaking about morals, choices and consequences.

"Zakse, choices that a Jedi make-" he was cut off as she stood, her twin sabers shifting and knocking against each of her hard, but smooth, thighs,

"Dumas – I've been a Jedi a lot longer than you. After the Mandalorian Wars I was awarded a pile of medals, a pile of trinkets that show my valor. I've already served the Council and I expect no reproach on any of my thoughts or choices." The Miraluka Scholar would've had something to say but Zakse turned on heel, her robe flaring as she left the meditation chambers. After a deep sigh Dumas raised himself slowly to his feet.

Zakse's hair was a bright blonde, braids interlacing with loose hair on her head and all coming into a large collection of braids down to the middle of her back that all ended in heavy, black beads. Her muscles were toned, focused and well built. Her own three-layer Jedi robes had voluminous sleeves and the brown overcoat was smaller than usual, leaving her undergarments, the white tunic and dark pants, much easier to see. She could be found easily in a crowd of likely students and apprentices. Zakses eyes were a brilliant blue and green with skin that was a lightly tanned hue, that radiated her station as a non-council member Master of the Order.

She had fought in many conflicts that had escalated beyond the control of the local law, even here on Coruscant, and had done many great deeds to save the innocents in the galaxy.

And the public loved her.

She was a Jedi star, with all the liking of senators that actually did their job but only needed have the charisma. She embodied, to the public, everything a Jedi should be. A guardian, kind, loving, strong willed, powerful and the reason why good had always triumphed in the end. There were other Jedi of course, other Battlemasters even, that rivaled her abilities but the public loved _her_.

Other Jedi's might falter in the light of such admiration, but it didn't bother Zakse Koette. In fact, it wasn't even anything that she paid mind to, just something that had happened throughout her training. Her training, too, was startling to other Jedi, even members on the Council here in Coruscant. In making her own style of lightsaber combat, in the peak of battle she could strike an opponent with her blade and the wound would simply seal itself from the shear heat and limited contact it had with the enemy's body. With her prowess she could swing her photon blade with such force as to actually flatten the beam to a minor point.

Makusto Vailo; the art of combat that she had yet to find a student to pass on. No one, not even older Battlemasters had what it would take to learn it from her; the ability to channel the Dark side for limited points of time, at the zenith of a swing or battle, in order to strengthen oneself. It had never interfered with her oaths as a Jedi, but it was found that sometimes she had to sit after a battle and let the dark side drain from her so it wouldn't leave it's poison behind.

Though before potential she would have to find a student that could accept her mindset; her and two others had gone through dark side training during their first years as Knights.

Training that had made them much stronger than their years would allow and had saved civil trade and stalled the chaos of a hidebound and archaic galaxy. It was costly however; only two of them came back to the light side after the time they'd spent with the force wielding monks. Her other companion, Biraz, had taken up the profession of a Scholar after they returned, unable to cope with the abilities he was now gifted with and to use them.

So that left her.

Zakse Koette.

The champion of The Order and creatures everywhere.

She was the strongest and since the wars she hadn't found a challenge worth her talents. The Sith hadn't shown their faces, in a numerable force, for some time. They would show their presence here and there in the neutral sector, but the mercenaries there mostly took care of things. That left her with thieves, smugglers and litterbugs; nothing befitting her skill. And so she stayed here now, constantly training for her next challenge and having the constant inquisition of her 'health' as Dumas had put it.

So in the meantime, when she wasn't needed for small assignments, her energy was placed in her students. Oron Lece'on; a Battlemaster hopeful who had been denied his rank of Padawan, but she was still allowed to train him. He had droves of anger and resentment that, rather than extinguishing, she tried to make him focus it. Focus it to a point, shrink it down to a miniscule speck that spun and spun with energy. As fabled as she was her students had trouble understanding her and thus, learning from her. Dumas Kren typically picked up the slack that was left for her students.

The Jedi's courtyard was where a lot of meditation and combat training took place. A cobblestone pathway stretched from the middle in four different directions, trees of green, orange and even blue and purple were aligned about this yard in a complimenting and peaceful manner. The students, Priyah Racz and Yon Shir'jaa'vik awaited her arrival. Both gave her separate bows and a moment later Dumas Kren walked up behind her as Ian and Kyle came from the South Bridge. All met and exchanged respectful bows; Zakse was by far the highest ranking member here.

"What're ya wantin' Dumas?" Ian sauntered up, his flight boots crunching on the cobblestone walkway. Dumas nodded slowly as one more figure approached the group, a Republic Officer,

"This is Tren Wolfross; an Intel Officer who also works for the Bounty Hunter's Guild on Taboon; the Guildmaster there has sent him to inform us of a disturbing situation." All the Jedi turned to Tren now; He stood an even six feet with black, combed back hair, green eyes that seemed to carry an errant look about them and a face that was easy to look at. His clothes were both elegant and functional; well-tended boots of black, grey pants and a tucked white shirt were all free of defects. He wore a simple, calf length, black coat and a blast vest, over his white shirt, weaved with armor plating. On his back there was a vibroblade resting in it's sheath and a high-powered blaster on his right thigh. Zakse noticed that the gloves he wore were high military grade before she met eyes with him.

Unfastening the datapad from his hip he started speaking,

"It's not exactly certain but I wouldn't have come here to spend the Order's time without a valid concern." He tapped several times as the Jedi simply watched him. Some birds chirped, a shuttle flew low overhead and a light breeze shuffled Tren's coat. Holding the datapad up so the Jedi could see clearly he began speaking again,

"According to regular Bounty Hunter's at the Guild, upon entering the cave they were attacked by creatures that can only be described as mutated Massassi of a black coloration." The datapad first scrolled through several pictures before stopping on a green moon possessed a large crater that consumed half of it's surface. Zakse's eyes lit up, full attention given to Tren now.

"Jansur. A remote moon orbiting the planet Veilla and where the Jedi have skirmished before if my information is right." But of course it was, not only did he have the resources of the Republic's Intel, but also there were many agents that ran business through the Bounty Hunter's Guild; his new home. He didn't wait for any Jedi to comment however, simply kept rolling with the information that he'd been paid well to bring.

"Between the information from the witnesses there and the information about the Sith between Republic and neutral libraries, we're convinced that these mercenaries invaded a Sith tomb." Dumas was the first to question, his hands still interlaced under his long sleeves,

"There are many unknown Sith tombs and while this warrants investigation why have you come here in person rather than sending word via holocron?" Tren waved a showy finger,

"Because they found a lightsaber before they were attacked. Not an ancient one either, one that seemed brand new. I was under the impression that only Jedi had the information to make these." Ian and Kyle looked at each other thinking of Kor for a few moments before their eyes, violet and blue, looked back to Tren. He fastened the datapad back to his belt and shuffled his dark coat.

"I have a map of the area that these attacks happened as well as a space route planned to get there for your assistance." All the Jedi looked at each other for a long moment before Dumas Kren spoke,

"The Jedi aren't spread as thin as we have been in the past few years. Though you must give us time to respond to this and time to discuss with the Council." Tren Wolfross nodded before pulling his coal coat against himself,

"I'll be in contact if and when a trip is planned to this moon." The Intel Officer said giving a spot of a bow before walking, crunching towards the South bridge.

Priyah and Yon hadn't a single word in the last conversation and weren't sure just how to react just yet. The Order's code was complex and different situations always combined so many rules together to test a Jedi and their understanding of it.

Ian and Kyle didn't say anything, having a close enough bond to practically muse it over between themselves without words. What did it mean? A brand new lightsaber in the dripping crevices of a Sith tomb? Had the Sith Alchemists finally began crafting lightsabers to be used in conflicts?

Zakse felt sick to her stomach. Her normally radiant complexion turned pale and her force aura flushed. Without a word she turned and left the courtyard as quickly as she could walk while holding her composure.

"Ah think we found'yer lost intrigue Dumas." Ian said waving his long pony-tail at the Miraluka Scholar. It was hard for Ian to take things seriously most of the time as he and Kyle could handle nearly any situation; their confidence was outstanding. Dumas Kren simply nodded and his feet scraped along the cobblestone watching Zakse go.

"I think that the battle on Jansur has affected Zakse in a negative way." His words were humorless before he turned back and nodded to the young Battlemaster and his once Master, "I wonder what the Force has planned for us." He responded before turning himself to speak with the Council. Ian blinked, his thumbs jammed thoroughly into his flight pant's pockets as his eyes turned to Priyah and Yon,

"Looks like we're gonna see some'or Sith than usual."

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	3. Burning Arkania

**The Sith**

Oron had a gray cloak over his Jedi robes so that he couldn't be placed here, only a few miles from his enclave. He waited in the dense city's dank alleys, knowing his clothes to be soaking up the smell just as he wrinkled his nose. It was even cold here without the sunlight's touch; here it was only the halogen's eminence to warm him. Quickly he pulled the cloak closer to himself and turned splashing in a puddle that further turned his expression towards a grimace. Then he heard the step, just one, as if a signal. He whirled around, shocked to see the small frame of the woman he'd come here to meet. Everything was ashen black on her, even her skin, and from her solid cowl came down a capote that was cut to many, many ground length pieces below her bust. The woman's small steps shifted these frills lightly, showing the ebony blade of Sith construction and, from the looks of it, two lightsabers.

All of it was mostly unimportant however as her face mostly froze his gaze. It was absolutely stunning, the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen on Coruscant. The eyes were a grey blue and her skin was tinted a ghastly white. He would've offered a greeting but didn't have the words.

"We found the lightsaber." The Lady's voice was small and beautiful and always seemed to be just above that of a cold whisper, "You've done well Oron." In fact the prize hung at her waist next to her other lightsaber. A training blade for those new to the Praxeum on this planet, it didn't have enough power to kill, but enough to stun.

Coruscant was a massive satellite with planet-sprawling cities that lit the planet up like a machine from space, all with hues of yellows and oranges. In the force, it was a full planet. Some new students even had trouble adjusting to the new level of life that flourished and multiplied on this planet.

It was no wonder they didn't know she was here.

Removing a sickly grayish cylinder from underneath her capote The Lady's iris' only reflected a grayish blue, like that of a storm raging on the dusty plains of Jansur.

"You've shown us that you can carry out our tasks that we will need. Take these, included are your instructions." Oron slowly looked over the small scale-like plates covered in etched runes with detail he'd never seen in any art before.

"Then you'll take me as your apprentice?" His complexion was that of a once country dwelling Jedi; all browns and warm tans. Oron was a simple Human, brown, tousled hair that reached in varied lengths around his head to frame it in a mess. A student who had yet to gain even the first rank among the Jedi. He'd had a duel against a Jedi Jay'veen in front of his Masters and had not only used force powers but excessive strength against her as well. It had taken a third party to remove him from battle and he still bore the scar on his face; a long, white line down the side of his temple and cheek, but the scar from his denial to be appointed an official Master hurt him more.

"If you do this task you can meet us on Jansur's surface, in the jungles that I have mentioned before." She instructed looking up at the much larger, yet painfully naive, student. She, herself, only stood a sliver over five feet where this arrogant pupil towered at nearly seven feet tall; A vassal to be sure. Oron nodded and placed the dark harbingers within his robes readying to do his portentous deed, the final test to prove his faith within the Sith.

They parted ways, with much more weight on Oron's shoulders, and The Lady's steps were light, dark and voluminous hood over her face. Just because someone wore dark colors on this planet didn't mean they were Sith, with so many people believing that, on this planet it was easy to move back to her small shuttle, "The Captured Sight".

The Coruscant spaceport was controlled chaos; everyone had to work in unison for the port to move smoothly. Zipping back and forth were the large public transports on the uppermost level; there were probably up to seven lower ones. She melted inwards with the crowd and was gone. Several levels down The Lady peeled herself away from the darkness in the shadow of a support beam; the dull, blue-tinted lights hardly doing their job. Then there was her ship, landing ramp waiting for her.

In all respects, and for it's primary usage, it looked just like any other shuttle; even smaller in fact. Any civilian could own her particular model and in fact there was a Twi'lek merchant ship docked just next to her with nearly identical features.

Hylic noticed before she was ready to say anything, mostly by her steps, much lighter than they were before.

"He took them?" The Lady nodded and Hylic smiled, his mask of a face smiling several rows of teeth. He was a Togruta, coal face with white around his eyes and lips of heaven as well. His eyes were an unfeeling shark black and it was hard to tell where his gaze fell; an advantage in combat. There were also three headtails, two that draped over his chest and one down his back over the spot where his torn hood to his red, beaten, robe would be. From the base of his front two headtails shot a pair of brownish spikes that laid claim to finishing his devilish exterior. Though Hylic was still a student, that meant less in Sith culture. Some mere students that had been trained well, had natural talent or had simply been a student for longer than expected could be strong and independent; unlike many Jedi. Hylic had all three of these qualifications.

The Lady nearly struck the student and he knew it. Of course the idiot student took them; he'd been promised power and prestige and a chance to get back at the Master's that had held back his development. Nels knew that the Master's decision to hinder his progress was wise for she had a good deal of knowledge in Jedi affairs and history, but it didn't change her plans.

"Lets go back."

"To Arkania?" Hylic questioned as The Lady nodded and their shuttle lifted off, clearing all of the spaceports qualifications and legal documents before doing so; it was easy on a planet so large.

* * *

Arkania used to be a center for prosperous trade. In fact the very name of the largest city, and most frequented spaceport, was "Trade City" but then came the battles. The Sith struck hard and fast during the night and in that time subdued the entire city. The Republic was able to fly in enough resources before the Sith locked down the planet and built a semi-permanent base out in the languished tundra. They fought each other, hard and bravely on each side, until Arkania was a festering wound of scorched earth. Where once there were miles of desolate snow landsb now it was further emaciated by the large craters and slowly fading stench of death. Such was the force of the catastrophe on the landscape that some craters still smoked from flames long since passed.

It was here that The Lady had founded a secret fortress, one specially fortified against those in the Republics of the galaxy. At first it seemed to be mostly simple in design and premature in it's development. But as the details began to unfurl, the thought behind it's construction was apparent. The four cardinal entrances were each large enough for siege vehicles, and looked to have seen a few through. Tents, rather than sturdy buildings, numbered more than three dozen, were placed throughout this outpost for the soldiers that stayed here under her own personal employ. Orange permalights that rested on the ends of shafts were stuck into the ground and were meant to be just bright enough to halt the change in pupils of those that were used to light. In the middle was the prize though, a three-tier pyramid with a jet door that opened via the S-cut in it's construction.

The Lady and Hylic's feet patted lightly against the dirt, the snow having been long burned away, past the massive and archaic looking auto-turrets that didn't look to fire any kind of laser projectile.

"I've wondered for sometime my Lady…" Hylic began, with endlessly more respect than Valek had ever given her, but was interrupted anyways, The Lady already knew what he was going to say even without the aid of her foresight through the force.

"..The particular use of those turrets?" She quipped holding her gauntleted and spiked hand to her soft bottom lip, "Jedi can't deflect metal slugs with their sabers and they travel much faster than blaster bolts." A small grin painted itself across her lips; it was also a stunning surprise for those arrogant Jedi. Hylic didn't say anything; his black eyes merely stared ahead as they walked through the encampment.

Even though it was technically midday out for other planets, the sky remained a dank and gloomy grey approaching a coal. Breaks in the clouds showed tampered orange light; the fallout of all the weapons used on this planet and in the skies. The whole landscaped reminded Nels more of the guts of a machine rather than a planet that it was.

The S-door gaped like someone forcing a horrible wound open and the two walked past it. The Main Hall of her Sith Outpost was drenched in a gloom that seemed to weigh tangibly upon new arrivals, or at least ones that didn't have a strong constitution. The Hall was lit not with lights but with brightly glowing crimson Sith runes that cast a more than ominous cave-like luminescence. The carved rock walls further accentuated this look.

The Lady was his Master in tutelage just as she was to Valek despite his grown abilities. Her words meant more to him than any of his clansmen, save for his true Master, for they strived for the same goals despite their difference in execution.

"Hylic…" Nels began, knowing of her on his mind, "Despite your lust for power you should know that not all of us can be grandly mighty like our Dark Lord; so instead we must be cunning, much smarter and educated than our opponents or allies." There was a long silence as Hylic dissected her words before his head bobbed in a small nod.

Throughout the entire hallway there sat two pair of massive statues, tributes to olden Sith Lords and some of the strongest warriors to have ever set foot in the Sith Empire, all holding separate pieces of an ancient tablature.

Beyond the entrance hall in The Lady's actual chamber presented the nightmare for invading forces. There was enough area in this room to hold a battalion of soldiers easily. And lining the wall in it's entirety were dozens upon dozens of green filled tanks each full with a creature of some manner; sometimes one could see claws and teeth, spikes or even tortured limbs through the haze. In the middle of the room were two, upright surgical tables and between them stood her other student, the very prized, Valek Charliss.

He was her first official pupil and had gone through much suffering to obtain and keep his power. When he was about to gain his rank as an official Sith and strike out on his own, The Lady sealed away his force powers and dumped him on a planet who's atmosphere was not only poisonous to Human lungs but a mix between a dry heat and humid cold. Logically, he should've died, as she'd tried to kill him several times before as well, but her scrying watched his clawing for life in the winter deserts and melting mountains and deep dunes. He looked much older than his age would normally allow, having spots of grey in his hair some twenty years before it's time. But… it'd made him a perfect student.

"Finally…" Valek started, leaning on one of the tables and eyeing the bloodstains near his feet, "I thought I was going to have to start talking to _these_ guys." He pointed towards some of the stirring creatures in their tanks as he rubbed the dark stubble of his weather-beaten face. Nels didn't say anything as Hylic slid silently behind her; Valek had more than earned his right to speak his mind though, short of violence, she didn't see a way to stop him regardless.

"The Jedi has taken his bait and our plans are moving forward as they should." Valek's expression changed suddenly to one of a knowing interest,

"But you're not happy." He noted knowing well the "witch's" emotions and light inkling of expressions better than anyone, even without his abilities gleaned from The Inquisition.

"We must stay concentrated on our goal or it may be slipped away from us even by someone who's unaware of desires." While she had the power of sight in lengths that no one else in the Empire possessed, that she had ever heard or seen of, it simply made her more careful than many Sith would normally be. This came with a precarious hold on her sanity however and sometimes she became a bit, hard to deal with.

The Lady's eyes then stared past her own thoughts to Valek; whose very posture showed his confidence and calculated arrogance. He was a hair shorter than the average Human height, and still a head taller than his Mistress Nels, with faded black hair that hung down in framing bangs around his face. Brown eyes contrasted against his deeply pale skin and lips to nearly appear a sun dyed yellow. His full black clothes were worn out and torn in places, just like his damaged body, and his left small finger was replaced with a golden talon from a test with a Sith Master during the infancy of his training. Armless armor sat in lavender hues around his chest and waist but the thing that stood out most were his weapons. He wore a pair of Sith Lanvarok's on each forearm each set fastened over large, Sith altered, hunting knives. The Lanvarok's were similar to arm-mounted crossbows, but instead of pulling a string back the weapon was loaded with projectiles and arming dust to blow them towards the target. It was also easy to guide them using the force unlike other weapons, but were costly in time to reload.

"You want to hurry don't you?" Nels questioned already knowing the answer to her query. Valek smiled a smirking but grim expression for her before laying his hands to his sides.

"Your plans always take so long Nels…" he said using her actual name, something few Sith could do without grim retaliation to one of higher rank. "And not all of us have the true Thethu 'sophistication' as you have. Most of us would rather grind our teeth into the Jedi or any opponent for that matter." In this Hylic agreed, gripping his belt with a clawed black hand, the pieced together blazing whip could cut like a lightsaber with a simple flick of his finger, and a small smile showed on his face…tooth upon sharp tooth revealing itself. The Lady's expression turned sour,

"That's because my plans involve more than just killing and blood." That was typically the end result but death in droves tended to be noticed by planetary law, Jedi and people everywhere. A bit of subtlety was vital among the Sith, that or overwhelming strength. They didn't have the latter however… they weren't gods among the Sith, they were simply cunning enough to have survived against the dangerous brutes and berserkers that roamed through the Sith ranks.

While Valek enjoyed killing, both of her students came from the Inquisition; a clan between clans that specialized in mental warfare and surgical strikes to eliminate their targets while gathering all the information they could. Indeed they were dangerous because they knew how Nels' mind worked and how to even improve upon her already deadly plans.

"We'll give it time for now." She said to a deeply sighing Valek. Hylic had already sat in a corner to meditate however, "When the time is right we will meet them where we have the high ground. If they find themselves cornered however, it will become much more dangerous for us, let us give them their space."

They would wait, for now it was only a Sith student, an accomplished learner and The Lady Seer against the strongest the Jedi had to offer. The Lady's resources were nigh limitless at this point however, pulling hundreds of thousands to millions of credits would hurt her funds, but they would replenish themselves in time.

Valek blinked to the sitting Nels and the already lost in thought Hylic before scuffing his boots on the overly clean floor. Hands in his pockets, Valek grunted a moan as the S-cut door opened for his boot steps; perhaps he could play with the soldiers outside for awhile, much better than watching sentient experimental goop writhing and twitching.


	4. Guildmaster

* * *

**The four dark steel** wardroids stalked around the corner, weapons inside their arms at ready. It would only take a quarter of a second to open fire on their target. His armor was a deep blue and bulky all over; the different weighted parts meant to give momentum to the warrior wearing it and accentuate his, or even her, strength. The helmet was one that spread down into a partial cowl over his shoulders and a black, downward and triangle viewport was what he saw out of. A massive chain-blaster rifle lay inert on his back. The thing held enough firepower to level a building if he unleashed it's fury.

In the backstreets of the desert moon known as Taboon, Kor, an ex-Mandalorian warrior, had received a coded message for a rendezvous here. He hadn't waited long as a small, all-black, hooded figure walked from around the long-end of the building, whose steps could hardly be heard, even with his helmet amplifying the sound.

"So I'm here…" he said sauntering past his throng of dangerous droids, "Who's my gracious host?"

Then she pulled her hood back and the blaster flew from Kor's leg; three shots towards the small gnat of a Sith. The small Sith's coat made of frills flared and a gauntleted hand sprang forth, knocking the first crimson shot away with the back of the spiked menace. The next ricocheted off of an errant blade closer to her elbow and she palmed the last, bits of now harmless photon splashing against her and illuminating her face just enough to confirm the Mandalore's hasty accusation. The shadows around the small figure writhed, spun and twisted into two masked figures on either side of her. The Twins.

"Nels… _You're _the reason my Guild was blown up!" His altered voice yelled from his tank of armor. The Lady Tenim was favored among the Sith, by many Sith in fact, so when she was captured it was the second in the Empire, The Dark Lord's wife, that came with a squadron of troops to free her from Kor's hold. All this while a cruiser hovered over the planet whose battalion of turbo lasers made the once proud Guild nothing but bits all over the Taboon. Though instead of a Guild it had turned into a crime lord's center for operation; many citizens on Taboon were happy to see it go.

"Technically it was your fault Kor…" her small, and sweet, sounding voice replied. Like that of a beautiful, but dangerous, harpy. "I was far too valuable as a student to be held by a _mercenary_ like you." Her voice spat venom for a second before smoothing over, "It's too bad, for you, that I wasn't killed in that explosion." It'd been a considerable amount of time since his Guild was decimated and another started by an 'honest' Falleen; long enough for her to grow invincible to normal, blaster drawing, bounty hunters.

Kor's gloved fist curled into itself and the droids blaster arms came to bear; eight invisible targets on The Lady's chest. Too bad it still wouldn't be enough. Her two servants gripped the blades at their waist and waited with abated passion.

"I'm not here to fight you Mandalore…" her voice whispered, overly audible in the darkness that loomed overhead, "I have gifts for you." She quipped sweetly, "Do with them what you please but accept them." The droids lowered their weapons but Kor, wholly untrustworthy of nearly anyone, left his small blaster to bear. The black, hide, bag was tossed by the living shadow that stood next to her, sliding at Kor's feet. Bending down, the hand of his powered armor gripped the back and peered inside.

A lightsaber, and enough credits to buy all of the alcohol from the local Bistro. Attatching them with a small bit of twine at his side there was a metallic sniff before he continued speaking,

"Why now?" She shrugged and the shadows melted away,

"Repayment for your Guild." She said with the hint of a smirk on her face. Inside she was laughing outright as she worked the imaginary strings above his head. He'd do exactly what she wanted and would think it his idea the entire time.

"Good luck Kor." She said before she turned, replacing her hood, and edging around the corner. Kicking up dirt it was only a moment before Kor slid around the same corner,

"Wait!" His altered voice yelled down the empty hallway, walls some twenty feet up. Where did she disappear to? His arms fell at his side, exasperated,

"Damn Sith."

* * *

**The next morning** Kor deposited all of his credits, a few hundred thousand, into a private account and drew the card that he would swipe. The lightsaber anchored at his side, the armored Kor entered the "Red Shadow Bistro" off of the main street of Taboon Moon. He wouldn't need the droids for some time and before he launched his attack it'd be important to enjoy his newly found wealth.

"I'll have everything on this side of the menu." The waitress gaped,

"But sir, that will be nearly four thousand credits and enough food for six men." The emotionless helmet turned slowly and simply stared; the waitress placed his order.

As he sat, there were a good handful of customers, Humans mostly, that sat at a collection of tables across the restaurant; only two or three of them carried weapons however. It'd been a few minutes before Kor removed his helmet, his short hair showcasing his overly blue eyes; and the scares on his marred face.

"Where's my food?!" He hollered slamming a tightly gloved hand on the table, shaking and spilling a portion of the water filled glass on his table. A few customers left just then, knowing better than to stay at the Bistro when someone, anyone, began yelling; especially one dressed in full armor.

"I'm deeply sorry sir…" The Human woman began looking from him to the head tailed red and white Togrutan cook behind the bar. "It'll only be a few more minutes." Kor nodded as he began to stare at the most dangerous fellow across the way; a tall Human with a single, heavy, blaster resting at his waist. He returned the glare but only for a second before he looked back to his Rodian friend and continued speaking in his native language.

Only a few more minutes and the table was covered with plates of all manner of meat, vegetable, noodle and soup combination on the menu resting just barely on the edges of the old and wooden table.

Chiima Ke watched as the brute started eating; all the while her stomach turning upside down as more customers left her restaurant. She started to get nervous as an equally uncomfortable waitress walked past her to pick up more drinks. She hadn't enough money to hire any bodyguard to avoid incidents like she knew was coming. So she had to deal with it. Just the previous night a Human mercenary caused a fight that cost more to her in repairs than her entire night's business. This planet was a nightmare most of the time and she'd hoped to have moved to Corellia by now. But with things the way they were, she'd have to start anew.

He piled bite after bite into his mouth, drinking several greedy gulps of his beverage only to break down the food enough to swallow. He'd gotten half-way through the entire meal when he suddenly stopped, spitting onto an empty plate.

"What is _that_?!" He cried looking over his shoulder with a deep animosity for the cook, for Chiima. "It looks like a rat tail!" With a loud clang and racket he swept half of the table clean, save for one plate. Moving the offender of plates in front of him, he pointed to something that looked more like a long piece of meat than the actual back end of a rodent.

"I assure you sir, there's no tail in your-" He cut her off standing, knocking more plates down and spinning the chair to the floor.

Chiima's eyes widened and she brought a long nailed hand to her mouth to cover the shock. It was happening again.

"I'm not paying for this; in fact, I expect some kind of repayment for this awful meal." He demanded in his booming voice. As his hand reached for the attractive waitress, the Human and Rodian stood, drawing their blasters and each firing, not even waiting for further provocation before letting their shots out. To prevent a lethal blow Kor brought his forearm over his face and the shots felt harmless against his armor. Then came his wicked smile, this was what he was really waiting for.

"You're next…" he said eyeing the cook of the Red Shadow Bistro and she flinched immediately, tears beginning to fill her eyes. Another shot and Kor drew his lightsaber, flicking it on and drawing his blaster with his left hand. More shots and from pure luck one bounced from the saber back towards the Rodian, burning his leg. He cried in a bug-like tone before two more shots landed in his chest, spilling him onto the floor.

He then rushed, saber held with both hands as his blaster skidded away from him. There were three cuts, one on the Human's leg, then stomach, then neck to topple him to the floor.

Chiima screamed and the waitress dropped the glass she was holding. It was horrible, where did a mercenary get a lightsaber from? How could he use it in the first place? But that's when she noticed, it didn't cut like the ones the Jedi had. The man was unconscious; the three 'cuts' nothing more than burns on his skin.

Kor noticed this as well; baffled at the pseudo nature of the weapon, he turned picking up his blaster, replacing the saber at his hip.

"The lightsaber is real…" He emphasized the point by brandishing a blaster at Chiima, "And if I hear otherwise I'll be coming back to shoot everyone here." He threatened, a crazed look on his face that made the white and brown lined scars on his face that much more menacing. Sobbing, Chiima simply slid down the other side of the bar. She would be ruined if this didn't stop, but furthermore she might not have to worry if he did shoot them all. Wiping the flowing tears from her face she listened as the Mandalorian's heavy steps walked towards the door, a squeak and he was gone.

Waiting two days Kor let rumors spread of his lightsaber wielding prowess. He was already a threat here on Taboon in the way he romped about with his war droids, but now he was truly intimidating. He didn't need credits, but scaring the local populace into paying him credits not to storm their building was a joy, and so much easier with a lightsaber, even of the fake variety.

* * *

**The Falleen race** was an interesting one. On their home planet there was very little actual battle as far as fists, blasters and chairs. Theirs was one was credits and wealth, who had the most extravagant palace, servants and ships was deemed the most powerful. Their skin was naturally a green tint with areas of scales decorating in delicate patterns across their body. Their blood was cold and they had the ability to emit a kind of pheromone that could attract members of the opposite sex; mostly in a hypnotic manner. Furthermore they're skin could change from a neutral green to orange, red and darker shades edging towards black for different emotions. So they lived comfortably on their planet signing purchase agreements and enjoying the life they'd set before them without cause for alarm.

So it was an interesting thing when Rad Tetragenes showed himself on Taboon those few years ago; climbing through the ranks of local crimelords and doing odd jobs for private information dealers and even hiring himself out to the Republic. He was a tall creature, nearly six and a half feet with enough well toned muscle to balance his frame evenly. His green eyes matched his skin's native state of color. And the long tri-set of braids that ran down his back to his legs made up for his always-smooth face. The armor he wore was a tempered permasteel that consisted of a chemical mix that made it soft, able to absorb intense heat well for a limited amount of time and made him nearly invulnerable to standard blunt forces. It'd been a fortune not only to find the plans for the armor, but to _convince_ the armor smith to make it for him.

S-9 model blasters were holstered in the small of his back and another on his right thigh; blasters that were just above average power. Then the two standard vibroblades he stored rested across his spine and his waist. His entire setup for weapons was for a specific style of combat he'd tuned to take on Force Users and other very talented swordsman.

Steepled, the claws at the ends of his fingers knocked against each other as he swam in thought; financial troubles had struck the Guild. At first the business was thriving, he could barely hire enough Hunters to do the jobs he had on queue. It had seemed though, as desperate as they were, that the latest war on Arkania was something they wanted no part of; especially after the Sith war beasts showed their ugly, horned faces. They were worse than the Republic's siege vehicles, all teeth and tough armor, fast and reliable in the snow and steeped in the hatred of their masters. Rad stretched, several bones popping as he did so, and looked over his office.

It was extravagant; behind glass on either side of the room along the entire wall were plants native to his home world; all purples, greens and yellows. His desk and chair were equally expensive and the deep ebony brown walkway, that paved the thirty feet from the entrance to his desk, was immodest as well.

But all that was put in when there was ample credits to throw about; he hadn't expected a _war_ to be bad for business. Even though his Guild would survive, he felt irritated that worry even touched his emotions. So it was that he sat at his desk, anger slowly churning under his well defined, and confined, composure.

On each of his forearms were gems, each taking up most of his forearm, that were actually built-in data pads and communication links for his Guild to himself. One of these was what Jyn's, his personal secretary and computer slicer, beautiful voice came through,

"Guildmaster? We need you at the front desk." A claw tapped the gem a few times as he sent an inaudible confirmation. The doors to his personal office slid open together and he entered the long hallway that led to his training chambers and the regular member's sleeping quarters. Everything was a light blue from the lights on the wall to the walls themselves.

"Yes?" he asked emerging from the hallway to the waiting chamber; chairs on either side and an intricately designed pathway led to the large wraparound desk that Jyn worked at; seven monitors active at once. Her hair was a bright blonde tied back, perfect face, and she wore snug fitting shined white and purple armor. Tapping at the monitors and bringing up several different reports, Jyn began talking about the story with the Mandalorian Kor and his new found 'power'. How he'd bashed up the Red Shadow Bistro and how he'd been mostly on a rampage over the moon.

"For five days now?" Rad started, his leaf green eyes reflecting in the dark monitor, "Well I suppose he'll be coming here soon." He said and began walking back towards his office. Jyn didn't argue, he was the Guildmaster.


End file.
